


Voices Off

by mlyn



Category: Fast and the Furious RPF
Genre: M/M, RPF, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-23
Updated: 2005-06-23
Packaged: 2017-10-24 02:59:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlyn/pseuds/mlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vin and Paul had to have seen each other at the MTV Movie Awards.  What went on between them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voices Off

Vin pressed back into the stage wall, letting McAdams and Gosling pass him. Despite the hectic black hell of being backstage at an awards show, with Tom Cruise waiting to go out on stage, they were focused only on themselves. She was grabby, arm around his waist, hand slapped over his ass. Gosling had his head in McAdams' neck, making her eyes roll back right at the moment they passed. Vin watched until he realized he was watching, then looked away. Puppy love was cute, but ultimately not his thing.

Paul was on their heels, trying to make a pass at Zhang Ziyi and failing miserably. Not speaking Chinese had its repercussions, apparently. Vin leaned forward when they were within earshot, which had to be pretty close to overpower the shrieking fans.

"Paul," he murmured, pitching his low tone enough for it to carry. "Over here."

Paul's head whipped around, blue eyes clear and lighting up when he saw Vin's face. "Hey, Vinny. Waiting for me?"

"Don't call me that." Vin fell into step, watching Zhang speed up and make her getaway while Paul wouldn't notice. "I thought we could have a chat."

"What about?" Paul was looking over his shoulder at Vin as he hit the green-room door. Vin closed it behind him, then quietly flipped the deadbolt. When he turned around, Paul was opening a soda and flopping back onto one of the leather couches in the room. The room was nice, with quiet lighting, marble countertops, and cushy furniture, not to mention a refrigerator full of fancy water and juices, and a huge fruit basket on the end of the bar. No booze, though; wouldn't want the movie stars coming out on stage drunk. Vin grabbed a bottle of water, but didn't open it. He took a seat in an armchair across from Paul.

"Paul." He ran his gaze over the blond, shaking his head. "What's with the threads?"

Paul plucked at a drape of trouser. "You don't like 'em?"

Vin sighed. "Man, we've talked about this. You need to get some help. Don't you remember anything I taught you?"

Paul made a petulant face and slurped down more sugar water. "I just got this last year." He made his voice breathy, mocking. "The color brings out my eyes."

Vin snorted and shook his head, cracking open his bottle and taking a sip. "Baggy, ugly shit never works for you. Look at Diddy. Look at Usher. They got closets full of style and quality. Man, you've got a beautiful body. Why don't you dress for it?"

Paul grinned again, looking mischievous this time. Vin dropped his head, knowing what was coming.

"You just called my body beautiful, dude."

"Paul."

"You want some of this?" And Vin did, he didn't want to admit it, but he'd been thinking about it... "It's been a few years, yeah--"

"Paauul." My god, this kid was how old, and how big was his ego? "Listen--"

"Hey, I'm down, man. It's cool. We were good together, yeah? Come here."

"Jesus, Paul." Vin ran a hand over his head, and gave up on trying to be cool about this. He'd locked the door with hope in mind, anyway. " _You_ come _here_."

"Aw, no, man, you started this..." Paul slid down on the couch and ran his hand along his chest. He looked a little stupid because the white shirt was about as baggy as an apron, and the pants were worse, but still, they didn't hide the change in his body's profile. Paul cupped a hand over himself and slung his legs apart. It was his favorite "come fuck" pose. Vin put the ugly suit out of his thoughts.

He got up and pushed the coffee table away from Paul's legs with one boot, then knelt between them. Paul inhaled sharply, his body tensing as Vin knocked his hand away and began unfastening the trousers.

But the more fabric he got out of his way, the more he found. Paul's shirttails were still tucked into the trousers, and both covered navy blue Jockeys. Vin got impatient with fighting all that cloth. He fisted his hands in the trousers and yanked them down, then shoved the shirt up. With a final twist of his wrist, he pulled the elastic waist of the underwear down to the base of Paul's cock.

Paul sighed and leaned his head back into the couch cushion. His dick had stiffened quickly, the head dark pink, the shaft and Paul's stomach muscles twitching in anticipation. Vin's mouth watered with sense memory at the sight. _This_ was one of the few reasons he put up with Paul.

He wrapped his fingers around the base and leaned forward, guiding the head into his mouth. Paul groaned softly, his hips shifting. Vin echoed the sound, loving the heavy weight on his tongue, the smell of some expensive body wash mixing with Paul's own familiar scent. He licked all over, wetting the shaft so his lips wouldn't catch on dry skin, then sliding it deep into his mouth and sucking gently. Paul's fingers scrabbled on the leather couch cushions, then grabbed a fistful of his shirt. "Fuck, yeah..." The movement of his hips nudged his cockhead against Vin's palate, sliding along the flat of his tongue. Paul had always said complimentary things about Vin's generous mouth.

But the locked door was weighing on Vin's mind. People would want to come in, probably any minute, and would become suspicious when they couldn't. Then he or Paul would have to unlock it, and probably be greeted by a hallway full of impatient performers, and what they'd been doing would be so clear...

They didn't have a lot of time.

Vin licked up to the head and put all of his attention on it, tracing the grooves and ridges with his tongue, just the way Paul liked. He moved his free hand to Paul's testicles, nudging aside the fabric to squeeze gently, then pressed his fingertips to the perineum.

Paul hissed, "Ssshit." He rolled his head back against the couch. "Gonna make me...shit, Vin...you're gonna make me come."

Vin lifted up for just a moment, glancing up at Paul's face to see him with his eyes squeezed shut, breath coming quickly between parted lips. "That's the idea." He went back down, his gripping hand squeezing and jerking the shaft. He was pulling out every trick in the book he had on Paul, and if this didn't...

A sound caught in Paul's throat at the exact moment his hips jerked. Vin held his breath and swallowed when the first spurt hit his tongue. His hands eased up the pressure on Paul's shaft and balls. After a minute, he licked the head a final time and sat back.

Paul had a stupid grin on his face, the previous tension having dissipated with his climax. Vin relaxed, smiling back. Paul's post-fuck look of bliss always had been irresistible. But the door...

"Zip up," Vin murmured, getting to his feet. He pressed a hand firmly to his own groin, trying to make his erection more uncomfortable and somehow dispel it. As he turned his back, he could hear Paul's clothes rustling, then the sound of his zipper. He flicked the lock, then went back to his bottle of water and rinsed the taste of come out of his mouth.

"Your place," Paul murmured, his voice still rich with pleasure. He stood and buttoned his suit jacket. Vin shook his head and drank again.

"You'd better--"

"Really, man, I mean it. C'mon, you're not going to the afterparty with that wood. You'd be asked to take the tree trunk back home."

Vin glanced down, then buttoned his own jacket. It didn't hide his erection completely, but it might get him through backstage and out to his car.

There were reasons he'd stopped fucking Paul, he thought as they moved through the back of the theatre. It had started with the movie sequel, when Paul was so happy about being the lead without someone else in the cast capable of stealing every scene. And there was the pot thing, and his endless surfing. Vin had never liked hanging out with slackers for long; they expected you to give up your career just to hang out, playing games or goofing off. He had a lot of reasons for not seeing Paul anymore, but most of them came down to different priorities.

But neither of them had gone into the green-room with the expectation of starting a relationship or some such shit. This was about getting as much ass in the hours of darkness as physically possible. This was an awards night, and while Vin wasn't up for being recognized for any role, Paul was promising him a prize anyway.

This was a bit of ambition Vin was comfortable with.

**Author's Note:**

> Um, sorry if I squick anyone out with the RPS. It's not like I planned to start slashing real people, especially since I sometimes have a problem with that...it's just that they're **ohsogay**. It's like a natural extension of the fandom. It doesn't feel wrong to me. And since I didn't squick my betas gwyn_r and estrella30 (who came up with this idea), then I probably didn't do half bad at it.


End file.
